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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29926191">Reflective</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarlotsHouse/pseuds/HarlotsHouse'>HarlotsHouse</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Case Fic, Empathetic killer, Empathizing with victims instead of killers, Everyone loves new Will but Hannibal wants his og sweaty dog man back, Jealous Hannibal, M/M, Will copies said other killer’s mannerisms, Will is ooc because he is becoming another killer, Will thinks he’s found his equal in another killer while Hannibal fumes in the corner, flashfic, loss of sense of self</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:41:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,485</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29926191</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarlotsHouse/pseuds/HarlotsHouse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Will never imagined he’d come across a killer with an empathy disorder like his. Only this killer can empathize with his victims. Will becomes obsessed and thinks he’s found his match.</p><p>Hannibal isn’t too happy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>179</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Hannibal Flash Fic #008</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Reflective</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Solemn faces bloom like pale faced roses, bodies entangled, strung, and with their limbs positioned in permanent dance along bristling vines. Hushed whispers escape from cracked lips in a potpourri of consonants. Will leans closer to give them a better listen, understand the killer's design. Music like this is so rare and prone to scaring. To them his awed curiosity is misshaped to resemble a predator's hunting. They fear his bereft blue eyes and startle away from him in his mind's eye.</p><p>"<em>No</em>," Will whispers, pleading.</p><p>But they won't listen any longer, their consciousnesses leave their bodies and Will is left hollow.</p><p>The pendulum swings.</p><p>Once. Twice.</p><p>Will is brought back to the aftermath.</p><p>"What do you hear?"</p><p>"<em>Traces,</em>" Will whispers, voice drenched in sorrow. His expression speaks of primordial eyes that've seen heavens split and grounds teared. He leans forward, touch blessed in its gentleness as he tilts the gift's chin up to better examine her still beauty. The killer's love for his victims seeps through every one of Will's pores and sends the nostrils of the man breathtakingly watching him flaring.</p><p><em>"They've left but I can clearly envision their ghosts, their touch, my gift and honoring of their bodies.</em>"</p><p>A gentle hand sets itself at the corner between Will's throat and shoulder, making him shudder. Will, mind still consumed by the song of another's, lets his cheek fall on the hand, sighing into it in acknowledgment while his eyes seal shut. A single cool finger slowly curls up to caress Will's cheek. For a blissful moment Will allows himself to stake his cross there, bare and grounded by the other man's presence.</p><p>Shutters capture the visual of the dead women, breaking the moment. Slightly disoriented and more than a little embarrassed, Will quickly removes himself from Hannibal's touch.</p><p>"<em>I'm sorry, darling,</em>" Will says, still feeling the remnants of the killer bouncing around his head. He clears his throat, corrects himself, <em>"</em><strong>Hannibal</strong>."</p><p>"He's shaken you," Hannibal observes, politely not commenting on Will's slip-up much to the latter's relief. "What have you come to realize, Will?"</p><p>The rest of the forensic team filters in, cameras flashing like blinking twilight as they archive the throstle of bodies laced into the shrubbery of the labyrinth. Will had never been to a ballet, or planned to attend one, but even more certainly, he never imagined being privy to a makeshift one compromised of dead ballerinas at the back of an upper end private garden.</p><p>"He's like me."</p><p>"Like you?"</p><p>"Too many mirror neurons. Likely has an empathy disorder," Will says. Hannibal's eyes shift. Maybe Will's managed to disturb even the unbreakable Dr. Lecter's cool. Will might have felt sorry if he hadn't been so damn happy at the prospect someone out there saw as much as he could, albeit he is still conflicted at the newfound feeling of loving the invasion of a killer's thoughts into his own. They are refreshing, like the cool mist that clings to a flower's thorn every morning. "He felt love for every one of his victims. This...devotion he holds for these people stems from something he believes to be holy and-and <em>rightful</em>. He cares for them because he <em>knows</em> them, sees them as if they were carved from his flesh. I've never come across anyone like this."</p><p>Hannibal remains eerily silent as Will's eyes widen in wonderment while he takes another considerate look at the bodies. This is the first time he's looked at a crime scene so eagerly.</p><p>...</p><p>"This is different," Will argues. "He wouldn't kill over- over jealousy!"</p><p>"No, I don't think <em>he</em> would," Hannibal agrees. Will shoots him a grateful look.</p><p>"What else would you call it then?" Jack nearly raises his hands in exasperation. "We've got four girls dead, Will. We agree he is male, most men in ballet are foot stools for the women to use during performance, they are there to make their female counterparts stand out, but by themselves are never quite the stars of the show, just their support. Combined with the fact Kayla McGuire, Rose Brams, Lindsay Willows, and Brady Miles were all well known prima donnas, it makes a vendetta against them not ring too far off."</p><p>"Maybe he feels he deserves the spotlight?" Hannibal considers aloud.</p><p>"We'll be wasting time and resources searching for everyone who hated them." Will paces the room. He looks back to the photographs, his mind eases into something mellow and soothing at the sight of the sylpth bodies depicting a still rendition of Swan Lake. A crown of feathers sits on the two middle heads, one pearl white the other the color of a crow's coat. "Someone is missing from the performance."</p><p>"Prince Seigfried," informs Hannibal.</p><p>Jack and Will look at Hannibal with curious but lost eyes.</p><p>"The swan's lover. He fell in love with Odette but later enchanted, and tricked, chose her evil look alike, Odille. Their roles are sometimes played by the same ballerina for this reason, in such instances, she is required to be able to balance and perform the part of a docile swan and a temptress. Prince Seigfried has eyes for both aspects."</p><p>"We're looking for someone who loved these girls?" Jack asks.</p><p>"His admiration for them beseeches that they stay the same so as to not be ruined. That would make an odd but not improbable motivation for killing them. So yes, I believe that what he feels is something akin to love."</p><p>Will wants to pull out his hair. Because when Hannibal rephrases what Will thinks <em>he</em> isn't met with a raised brow or concerned eyes.</p><p>Will looks back to the photos, feeling sullen.</p><p>Does this killer also get underestimated in his daily life? Are his words always met with skepticism? Do people detest his presence like they do Will's?</p><p>...</p><p>An inhale there. An exhale here. Each more drawn and ragged than the last.</p><p>What's worse are the desperate doe blue eyes that glance aimlessly, searching for an oasis they won't find.</p><p>Hannibal drinks it all in like a shot of whiskey. He doesn't like whiskey. The twang of bitterness always leaves an unpleasant burn in his throat.</p><p>Still he waits, when it becomes obvious Will won't speak, he shifts his body slightly, aiming to call Will to attention with the sound of fabric rubbing across itself.</p><p>Normally this works fine (Will's the type to take in every miniscule movement ) but in present time his Will is still lost to the selfish embrace of his thoughts.</p><p>
  <em>Look at me. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Only me.</em>
</p><p>"What plagues your mind, Will?" And because Hannibal is conniving and miffed he adds, "I hope I'm not such poor company it's made you silent."</p><p>Will animates back to the present, blinking rapidly before breathing through his teeth gently like a worn out whistle. "Sorry, um, no <em>you're not</em>. And nothing plagues it. I just feel a little lost."</p><p>"That warns the tip of an iceberg. Does this shift in demeanor have anything to do with the latest case?" Hannibal asks in a carefully casual tone as he relaxes his limbs, the picture of openness.</p><p>"I'm sure you can guess. You're the psychiatrist here," Will tacks on. "What do you think of it?"</p><p>"That killer sanctified his creations with his touch. Believed himself a God of grace. His empathy disorder paved way for his forgiveness." Hannibal tilts his head. "What do you make of that?"</p><p>"What do I make of it?" Will laughs, the question more directed at himself. He hums, drumming his fingers across the armrest. "He's beautiful." His voice comes out light, frightened at just what Will is admitting to. But Hannibal's expression remains an unmoving glacier.</p><p>"There is beauty in having all-seeing sight," Hannibal he says. "One that you also have. Yet you don't see your own insightful gift as such."</p><p>"Where a swamp's water is muddled a river's glistens." Will shrugs. "He uses his gift differently. Empathizes with his <em>victims,</em> whereas I...take a walk in a killer's shoes."</p><p>"In this case, you took a walk in his shoes." Hannibal leans back, eyes startlingly passionate. "You like what you saw."</p><p>The surety in which Hannibal says it takes Will aback. Words lodge in his throat, Will gulps them down, dearly afraid of them.</p><p>...</p><p>Agitated, Will furiously picks at the corners of his nails. The agent keeps prattling on about profiles and what not, but all Will wants him to prattle about is how he will leave and never speak to him again. They reach the elevator and still the other man hasn't let up. Will gives a polite nod to show he's listening(he's not), then determinedly stares at the buttons, mind drifting.</p><p>
  <em>Legs posed mid arabesque. Arms raised. Slender fingers piqued heavenward.</em>
</p><p>At once Will's eyes take a hazed quality to them.</p><p>Later on, when he's alone in his office, he lets his vision be consumed by the copies of the photographs once more.</p><p>
  <em>Will is tranquilized. He can't scream or move. All he is distantly aware of is the gentle hands of the man above him working to shift him into position. He wants him to know he loves him. Will's never felt something so warm surrounding him, making him feel safe and wanted. He sees Will as beautiful, something to be cared for. Appreciates him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tears spring to Will's eyes.</em>
</p><p>When he pulls himself back Will already misses the feeling of the soft hands and low loving murmurs.</p><p>...</p><p>"I didn't take you as a flower type of guy," Beverly says.</p><p>Will opens his mouth, feeling defensive, but catches no teasing or judgment in her gaze, instead there lies a surprising curiosity and appreciative tone, one people wear when they start seeing others in a new light.</p><p>The petals under his thumb feel suddenly too soft. Prone to tearing. Will gently places it down besides the file spread open on his desk. Along with the rest of the bunch. "They're the same type found at the scene. White camellias." Will sniffs, sure that she will soon ask <em>If you wanted a closer look why did you have to buy a whole lot? Surely one is enough?</em></p><p>"You should get a vase for those," Is all she says before dropping the autopsy report on top of his rapidly growing stack of research references to Swan Lake.</p><p>He takes her advice.</p><p>Before he heads out he glances back into his office. The white camellias make his otherwise sterile room almost seem lighter and more welcoming. A nice addition after all. Will hesitates then quickly pulls one from the glass vase. He smiles into its cusp and breathes in its soothing fragrance.</p><p>...</p><p>"You should take a break Will," Jack says behind the mountain of papers. One wrong shift and they'll be sent careening to the ground. Whatever space isn't full of papers is crowded by white multi layered facets of petals, giving the impression of snow covering land. Jack looks around at all the white camellias in confusion.</p><p>"I'm getting closer to understanding him, I'm sure of it." Will's head pops up from behind the tower, brandishing a shy smile.</p><p>Jack unsurely smiles back, unused to seeing Will in such light spirits. "You're the man. I always appreciate those who properly apply themselves to their work. Keep it up, I'll make sure no one bothers you."</p><p>Jack's hand resting at the edge of the desk slightly pulls at an edged file as it draws back. Both Jack and Will's eyes widen as the papers all stumble to the ground.</p><p>"Sorry about that," Jack says, a stranger to feeling embarrassed, leans down to pick them up but gives a start when he finds Will already on his knees beside him. He's even more taken aback by the smile still gracing Will's lips as he gathers the papers, no sign of annoyance in his normally guarded blue eyes.</p><p>"Don't worry about it Jack, I got this."</p><p>"Are you sure?"</p><p>"Have a safe drive, I'll get lunch later." Will waves him off.</p><p>...</p><p>Change is slow. But Will's an enigma that contradicts every book on the psychological. So he shifts quicker than currents and does it seamlessly.</p><p>The same way a slowly aging apple gets sweeter as it rots, Will's mannerisms take on a visual gentility, exuberating an air of someone walking on clouds. Should he keep going down this line he will reach the last rotting stage, the putrid and sour one.</p><p>This is not Hannibal's design.</p><p>"...Thank you," Hannibal says, taking the outstretched offering delicately and with no small amount of confusion. Will bites his lip, expectant. Hannibal furnishes the flower in his breast pocket and Will visibly relaxes, satisfied. "White camellias are often symbols of love and admiration. They're given to those meaningful to you."</p><p>"I appreciate all you do for me," Will says breezily, his fingers fidget at his sides.</p><p>Hannibal shifts his eyes around, catching sight of Price, Zeller, Katz, and even Jack who are all failing at pretending that they aren't eavesdropping. Zeller curses as he drops a metal tool in his distraction.</p><p>"The pleasure is all mine," Hannibal says, voice hollow.</p><p>Will nods, visibly thrilled.</p><p>...</p><p>"Good morning professor," Madbury chimes as she walks by.</p><p>"Good morning agent Madbury," Will nods in acknowledgement.</p><p>She pauses, then continues on her way to her seat. "Hey what's got Graham in such a good mood? He usually hardly remembers my name," Madbury whispers conspiringly to her desk partner.</p><p>"Huh?" Reyes looks over at Will who greets the incoming students up front. "I guess he does seem a bit chipper. Say...even his skin looks a bit shiny."</p><p>"I think that's just the sunlight."</p><p>"<em>I think</em>, he's finally getting laid," a voice pops in from behind Madbury and Reyes.</p><p>"It would explain his...cleaner look."</p><p>"Whatever, so long as it keeps him from barking at us, good on him." Reyes leans back in his chair.</p><p>As Will pulls up the powerpoint the three students groan in unison. "Not this again."</p><p>...</p><p>"Do you think I'm like that?" Will holds his hands behind his back.</p><p>"In what respect?" Hannibal asks, thrown by the comparison Will is hinting at. They are reviewing the Swan Lake Killings (as they've been dubbed), photographs and reports spread across the bulletin board.</p><p>"Fragile?" Will hesitates before looking at Hannibal from underneath his long eyelashes, and adds, "<em>Beautiful?</em>"</p><p>"I once told you that Jack saw you as fragile fine china he took out on special occasions. You seemed adverse to that comparison then. Have things changed?"</p><p>Will blinks slowly. He frowns, and for a moment Hannibal sees the familiar old sight of Will's disgust and self deprecation.</p><p>"You are a mold prepared for shaping on a kilt, Will," Hannibal amends. "Your mind, it is a rare thing. It's divine."</p><p>"Oh," Will says, a mixture of pleasure and disappointment. Of course, all Hannibal sees is the beauty in his empathy.</p><p>...</p><p>"Have a seat Dr. Lecter."</p><p>Hannibal poses his hands atop his raised knee. "May I inquire the nature of this meeting?"</p><p>"I'd like to speak about Will's progress," Jack says, face light. "More to the point, I wanted to commend your work. I've never seen Will this-" Jack rolls his wrist. "- <em>vibrant</em>. He's throwing himself into this case with much enthusiasm. Usually we struggle to have him even take a second glance at the bodies, but now he's taken to them like Narcissus and his reflection. He holds conversations better as well, I think his social personality has reached an amicable level. A lot of agents speak highly of him as of late. Just last week he found an admirer's note in his office, if you can believe it." Jack chuckles.</p><p>The skin across Hannibal's face pulls tight across his skull with every word. A selfish ire rises within him.</p><p>"That is great news. But I must say that I alone am not responsible for this change." Hannibal thinks with distaste of the unseen graceful man who holds Will's brain in the palm of his hand. "Our combined efforts are finally bearing fruit."</p><p>"I think soon Will will reach a point where he's ready to leave the nest, so to speak. Your services have been great thus far. It's been a pleasure having you with us, Dr. Lecter."</p><p>Hannibal looks down at Jack's offered hand, concealing his shock.</p><p>This simply will not do.</p><p>...</p><p>"It's dizzying, has anyone ever told you that?"</p><p>His voice is waspish, cool and fine as silk. A tempting melody.</p><p>"What is?" Hannibal smiles, pouring Will a glass before taking one for himself.</p><p>"The way in which you shift to accommodate whatever I throw at you," Will says, voice loosing some of its lull tone. "I could tell you any outlandish, wild thing, and you'd go on, with that not-quite-a-smile-and-not-quite-a-frown. Then somehow bring it back to conundrum."</p><p>"Conundrum?" Hannibal gives a slight chuckle. "I believe you are describing yourself there, Will."</p><p>Will blinks owlishly. His face is cleaner, beard smartly cut, hair combed in soft waves. He moves languidly and with purpose, no more room for the unintended or unplanned. Hannibal does not take kindly to risk free zones. He waits a while, until he sees the bottom of his glass.</p><p>Then gets up and moves with sure steps towards Will, angling to experiment. He stops short at the lack of surprise on Will's face. It seems a storm could befall them and he'd bat his lashes prettily at it and render it mute. Hannibal improvises, and takes away Will's empty glass. "You are pretty accommodating yourself, Will...No I think the correct word would be adaptable. Always changing. I'd like to show you something."</p><p>When they reach the corner of the room, where Hannibal usually keeps his sketches, Will stops short at the sight of the book page spread open on top. Hannibal makes note of how no matter any efforts Will may pull to smoothen his skin, the blistered worn fingers will and have remained the same, as they feather lightly run along the title like a breezed hum.</p><p>"Untitled(Barry Langdon), by Alessandro Pagani. Oil on canvas." Will's expression droops. "Brain on fire? That's a rather lazy observation, wouldn't you think? Besides, it's incorrect. At least, now it is."</p><p>"The whole heads are on fire, Will. And I never insinuated them to be yourself, you made that jump on your own." Hannibal hides a smirk. It disappears in full at the ghost of a touch fluttering against the back of his neck, fiddling with the short strands of hair there the way one does soft sand. A kindling heat makes itself known in Hannibal's belly.</p><p>"But you knew I would. You intended for it to be so." Will's hot breath echoes across the arcs and halls of Hannibal's ear. His dwindling fingers slowly play along Hannibal's skin as if it were piano keys, dipping gently down his spine before resting at the small of his back. Then the translucent touch vanishes, as if Will's fingers had never been there. Hannibal looks directly at Will. His eyes aren't the usual sharp all seeing blue, but rather a cloudy one, murky and soft like the heavens.</p><p>"A gentle reminder of sorts."</p><p>Will's eyes momentarily clear. "I don't need any warnings. I know who I am."</p><p>"You sing another's song, Will." Hannibal lets some of his loss leak into his voice. "I can't help but worry."</p><p>Will swiftly moves towards him once more, Hannibal wonders when he got so light on his feet. "You've got nothing to worry about." His lips hover dangerously close to the corner of Hannibal's. "I told you, you were accommodating Hannibal. Will you change for me, along with me, now?"</p><p>Hannibal gently releases a breath and curves his hand up to rub circles into the smooth of Will's cheek. Will's lashes flutter closed, sighing into the palm of Hannibal's hand the way flowers lean into the sun's touch. "Not this time, I'm afraid, Will."</p><p>Will pulls away, expression stung.</p><p>Hannibal continues, undeterred but heart heavy, "If I did I'd no longer be doing it for you, or even for myself, only for this unseen <em>him</em>. Someone, whom for your sake, I hope you <em>never</em> meet. Don't look so sorrow filled, Will, I only have what is best for you in mind."</p><p>"I'm sick of hearing what people think is best for me."</p><p>Will walks out the door without a glance back.</p><p>..</p><p>"Will don't go searching for him. Are you listening? Will? <em>Will?!"</em></p><p>The auditorium proceeds lavishness and enters something celestial. White camellias circle the long arched columns in descending spirals. Rows of seats stand in reminiscence of the neatly cut shrubbery from the garden at the first performance site. Blinding lights overhead are positioned to face the center of the stage, up on which a man stands posed in perfect balance, his ribs aligned over his hips, arms rounded over them, and weight shifted to his core. Though his chin is slightly raised he gives the mirage of a dormant faerie or god.</p><p>Will slowly walks down the aisle, past the many empty rows, entranced by the Eros in human form. Long white lashes quiver open and stare at their audience inquisitively. "And who might you be my dear?" his voice is like a lullaby, exactly as Will imagined it would be.</p><p>"I am," Will struggles to form his words, suddenly rendered speechless after having anticipated so long for precisely this moment.</p><p>"A fan?" the man raises a pale brow, then smoothly drops down on to sit on his ankles to take a closer look down at Will, inclining his head like a dove as his silk curls perfectly frame his face. "Oh no, I can see it now, you're much more."</p><p>Excitement bubbles across the man's features. Will softly gasps, smiling.</p><p>"I know what you've done," Will begins. "Your work, I mean. I've studied your last performance for so long. Every detail, is so very meticulous."</p><p>"I never forget a face, I'm sure this is the first time I've had the pleasure of meeting someone such as yourself," The angel-like man corresponds. "Tell me, which performance of mine exactly did you attend?"</p><p>They both know the answer.</p><p>"Your best one."</p><p>...</p><p>"He's not picking up his phone."</p><p>"I fear the worst," Alana says.</p><p>"I hadn't realized he was spiraling. He seemed so...happy."</p><p>"None of us had. He's known of Jude Lawrence's location for a long time now. Evidence points to Will having purposefully evaded his capture for as long as he could."</p><p>Hannibal drops the vase to the ground, shattering it. The moisture from the damaged camellias seeps to the floorboards.</p><p>"Hannibal, are you okay?"</p><p>"We'll find him. The answer is in here somewhere."</p><p>...</p><p>"Do you dance..."</p><p>"Will," Will responds.</p><p>"<em>Will</em>," the holy Jude tests the syllables in his mouth. "How lovely."</p><p>"And no, I never have." Will looks a tad disappointed in himself.</p><p>"It's of no matter, you carry the beauty of an experienced dancer." Soft hands raise Will's own to meet a pair of pink lips. "This performance will be more magnificent than the last. My only regret is not having met you sooner, Will."</p><p>"I feel the same," Will says as he lets himself be moved around. He closes his eyes and let's the other's touch guide him, Will feels like he's being carried away on a cloud. Must be the sedative.</p><p>"You won't feel any pain. It will be like slipping into a deep dream, one where you and I will both be victorious."</p><p>"...'s nice." Will slurrs. He is content. He is loved.</p><p>In his fleeting consciousness an image comes forward, one of hollow eyes the color of dried blood. "H-Hannibal?"</p><p>"I love you, Will," he says.</p><p>The vision of Hannibal blurs to reveal Jude speaking.</p><p>Will frowns.</p><p>"What's the matter darling?"</p><p>"You love me?" Will asks but it is not directed at Jude.</p><p>"Why of course. You and I are two sides of the same coin. Our shared gift is how you found me, isn't it?"</p><p>"How I found you..." the ripper murders flash across the back of Will's mind as he closes his eyes. He reaches an epiphany at the verge of his descent into darkness. "But...<em>you</em> don't...<em>see</em> <em>me.</em>"</p><p>"Under different circumstances, I'd had been a fan of your work," a low voice says.</p><p>Will snaps his eyes open in shock.</p><p>"Who are you?" Jude asks, murky eyes clouded with confusion before taking on an angry tone of a storm. "You aren't part of this performance."</p><p>Hannibal stands beside them, eyes dangerous, and with a tired dark rim surrounding them. His hair is out of its normally gelled position, now fanning across the side of his forehead, with his shoulders broad and lips drawn back in a barely concealed snarl. Will's never seen him so disheveled.</p><p>"You'll simply have to make due. Poison, really? How inconsiderate. Not very intimate."</p><p>"Inconsiderate?" Jude backs away from Will, enraged by Hannibal's words. "I care very much for all of my creations! They don't feel pain, they enter their eternal slumber peacefully like angels."</p><p>"Pain is truth, what you give them is a frilly lie. Will deserves more than that."</p><p>Hannibal brandishes a glimmering blade from his side. Just as Will finally enters sleep. The performance is over.</p><p>...</p><p>"Make room! Everyone make room! Medic, over here!" Jack barks.</p><p>"Oh god," Alana says rushing forward to where Hannibal leans over Will's unconscious form. "Will he be alright?"</p><p>"We can only hope."</p><p>"Do...you think this was suicide?"</p><p>"I think Will believed he'd found his equal. Someone to cure his loneliness. Someone he thought was like him."</p><p>"Like him?" Alana glances down at the still form of Jude lying beside them, neck cut open. "Why a knife?"</p><p>"A scalpel, it was the only thing I had on me, I'm afraid."</p><p>"We are lucky to have you here Hannibal. I'm sure Will feels the same."</p><p>Hannibal gently lets his hand fall across Will's forehead, pretending he is medically checking him but really only selfish possessive thoughts cross his mind. "I feel lucky to have met <em>him.</em>"</p><p>...</p><p>"How do you feel, Will?"</p><p>"Disillusioned," Will mutters tetchily.</p><p>"He wasn't how you imagined he'd be?" Hannibal says, struggling to hide his merriment.</p><p>"He was exactly how I imagined he'd be. But my mind was a fog. I was convincing myself into acting like him. I think I wanted to become him, thought it would make me happy. It certainly made everyone else happy. Except you..."</p><p>"And now?"</p><p>"Now I feel regret." Will looks up at Hannibal, meets his gaze, cheeks flushing, then looks away. "And more than a little embarrassed at my behavior towards you."</p><p>"There is nothing to be embarrassed about, Will. Word of advice-"</p><p>Will looks up once more as Hannibal leans down to hover his lips over his ear. "The next time you try to kiss me I want you to fully be yourself."</p><p> </p><p> </p>
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